


Going Home Again

by May_Noble



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Gen, Hero's Journey, I hope this isn't a disaster, Luke is a badass
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-22
Updated: 2018-04-22
Packaged: 2019-04-26 09:00:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14398716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/May_Noble/pseuds/May_Noble
Summary: A few months after the Battle of Endor, Luke, Leia, Han, Chewie, C-3PO and R2-D2 find themselves on Tatooine, which was taken over by the previously-indifferent Imperials during Darth Vader’s obsessive search for his son.  They land ahead of the New Republic fleet to scout out the situation.  Unfortunately, the Falcon is damaged somewhat upon landing, and it needs to be repaired before they can do any reconnaissance.  Luke, being the most familiar with the planet, takes it upon himself to search for the part in a certain Station he used to know...





	Going Home Again

**Author's Note:**

> This is canon-compliant if you only count canon as the movies, Clone Wars, and Rebels (at least, I think so—to be fair, I haven’t actually watched Rebels yet, and haven’t seen every episode of Clone Wars, but they shouldn’t be relevant here). It is inspired by the “A New Hope” novelization, which I read when I was about twelve and haven’t read since, but I’m pretty sure this fic is not compliant with Legends, etc., because Wookieepedia has information on Fixer, Camie, Windy, and Deak that I am flagrantly ignoring here. In fact, the whole Imperial situation on Tatooine is completely my invention. Sorry.

When the communications network first went down, Fixer was largely unbothered. He ran Tosche Station through a combination of traders, personal connections, and local word of mouth; if Tatooine was suddenly cut off from the galaxy at large, it didn’t make much of a difference to his day-to-day life. If he stopped to think about it, it was a little worrying; after all, just four short years ago, the Empire couldn’t have cared less about the desert rock he lived on. Then, for no discernable reason, they moved a series of garrisons onto the surface and planted the primary one in Mos Eisley (annoyingly close to Tosche Station, as far as Fixer was concerned). Now they were cutting them off from the HoloNet. 

At least Fixer assumed it was the Empire’s doing. He couldn’t imagine any other force in the galaxy powerful enough to disrupt an entire planetary communication field so efficiently. 

But he didn’t often stop to think about it. He was too busy, after all—running the trading center he’d bought four years ago, keeping up with the local Tusken movements, and settling into life with with his new wife, Camie. 

If anyone had accused him of taking an interest in gossip, he would have objected strongly. That was Camie’s area; she spent hours talking with her friends, either in the Station or in one of the safer haunts in Mos Eisley. No, Fixer wasn’t a gossip; he was just gathering local information in the interests of his business. After all, if you didn’t know who had bought which farm, who had a windfall season and could afford to replace a few vaporators, and who was an amateur pilot that crashed a few too many junkers—well, your business would suffer for it, wouldn’t it? 

And Fixer didn’t do things halfway. He decided it was important (responsible, even) to stay informed, so he knew the comings and goings of his neighbors with complete and thorough intimacy. That was why he was so shocked when he came out of the back room early one afternoon and saw Luke Skywalker. 

Luke had left home—what, it had to be five years ago at least, didn’t it? There had been a terrible incident out at the Lars farm. Tuskens. Owen and Beru were found and buried, but Luke had disappeared without a trace. Fixer, who was a little older than Luke but fond of him (or, if he were really honest, tolerated him—the boy could be an insufferable whiner, after all), hadn’t seen him since. 

But there he was, standing nonchalantly in Tosche Station like no time had passed at all, looking through some of the inventory along the south wall. 

“Luke?” said Fixer. “Luke Skywalker!” 

Luke turned and spotted him. 

“Fixer,” he said, sounding oddly surprised to see him. 

“Yeah, buddy, it’s me!” Fixer had made his way across the room by this time, and gave Luke a thumping hug. “How ya been? Long time no see!” 

Luke hugged him back, albeit loosely. He pulled away quickly and they looked each other over. “I didn’t expect to see you,” said Luke. “I guess I figured everyone got conscripted.” 

Luke looked... different. It was obvious, but at the same time, Fixer couldn’t put his finger on it. He was dressed in all black, including one glove, and his once-shaggy blond hair was a little more tamed than usual, but there was something deeper than that. An expression on his face, or maybe just a look in his eye. Fixer shrugged it off; it was just little Luke Skywalker, after all. 

“Yeah,” he said. “Windy and Deak both got called up a couple years ago, but I already owned this place. Business owner, essential to economy—they let me buy them off.” 

Luke smiled a little. “I’m glad you’re all right.” 

That was one difference for sure. Since when did Luke give anything less than a full cheek-splitting grin?

“Hey,” said Fixer, “you should meet my wife!” 

Luke raised his eyebrows. “Someone agreed to marry _you?"_

That was more like Luke. Fixer laughed at him, gave him a friendly shake of the shoulder, and called into the back. “There’s someone here to see you!” 

“I’m busy!” yelled back Camie, shaded with irritation, but she came out into the front room anyway. 

Luke gave Fixer a look. “Camie’s your wife?” he said, either amused or skeptical—Fixer couldn’t quite tell. 

“You bet she is,” said Fixer proudly, grabbing her and pulling her close. “Hey, sweetheart, look who’s back!” 

“Wormie!” said Camie, reaching out and pinching Luke’s arm. He flinched, but only a little. “Wow, look at you.” 

Luke glanced down, a little self-consciously. “I guess we’re all a little older,” he said ruefully. 

Older, thought Fixer. That was part of it—Luke looked older. Not most of him, no, but his eyes. 

“So what brings you back here?” said Fixer. “If you didn’t think you were gonna see me, so I’m guessing it’s not a social call.” 

Luke laughed lightly. “No, as a matter of fact it’s not. We had a little... incident on the way into atmo, and I need a part.” 

“Well, you’ve come to the right place!” said Fixer, letting go of Camie and gesturing widely at his station. “What do you need?”

“An oscillating converter. T1X9, if you have it, but the X8 will work if you don’t.” 

“What do you need an oscillator for, Wormie?” said Camie, looking skeptical. “You don’t need one in speeders or skiffs.” She might play the gossip, but she knew her way around the inventory. 

“No, you’re right,” said Luke. 

Camie rolled her eyes. “Trying to be mysterious?” 

Luke smiled. “Just trying to get a part.” 

“I think we have one in the back,” Fixer interrupted. He loved his wife, but every once in a while she let her childish streak show. He turned his back on them and left. 

By the time he came back, Camie and Luke were being civil... mostly. As he came in the door, he heard Biggs’s name. 

“I know,” Luke was saying. “Are his parents coping okay?” 

“Sitting pretty with an Imperial pension, I guess,” said Camie, a little nastily in Fixer’s opinion. 

“Pension?” 

“Sure—war casualties,” she replied. “He was in the Fleet. You knew that, didn’t you?” She was surprised; Luke had been speaking as though he was very familiar with Biggs’s tragic end. 

“Oh,” said Luke, looking taken aback. “No, I... didn’t. I thought he.... Never mind.” 

“Here we go, Luke,” Fixer interrupted them. “T1X9, just like you said. We don’t get these in too often, you know; not much use for them out here.” 

Luke took the part and opened the panel on the side, examining it with what looked like an expert eye. “Thanks, Fixer,” he said sincerely. “This looks like exactly what we need. How much?” 

“Thirty,” he said. 

Luke shut the panel and looked at him sharply—way more sharply than a kid his age had the right to look. “Thirty?” he said. “That’s a lowball number and you know it.” 

Camie was glaring, too, but Fixer shrugged. “It’s the ‘long-lost-friend-returns’ discount.” 

Luke looked him in the eye for a long moment, and Fixer almost shivered. He felt like he was being examined from the inside out, somehow. He must just be tired; after all, it was just Luke Skywalker. Nothing out of the ordinary. 

“Thanks,” said Luke at last. “Thank you, Fixer.” He reached under his black jacket, pulled a pouch off his belt, and started counting out credits. 

“What’s with the glove, Wormie?” said Camie, watching him. 

Luke hesitated and looked up. Fixer almost thought he looked uncomfortable, but it was a simple question. Maybe he didn’t like being reminded of his childhood nickname. 

“It’s... well...” Luke grimaced. “Here.” 

He peeled the edge of it up, and—Fixer and Camie both gasped—pulled up a panel on his wrist. His artificial wrist. Which led to an artificial hand. 

Luke looked up at them again, a little sheepish. “Yeah, it’s been a weird five years,” he said, closing the panel and pulling the glove back down. For a minute he ducked his head and looked like his old self. But that made Fixer realize another difference: Except when he was embarrassed over his artificial hand, he carried himself with a calm confidence—a lot of confidence. 

It suited him. 

“Sorry about that,” said Fixer at last, realizing he hadn’t spoken yet. 

“Sorry about my hand?” said Luke, amused. “It’s been a few years. It’s really fine.” 

“Artificial limbs are expensive as all hell,” said Camie. “How did you get one?” 

Fixer shoved her lightly in protest, but Luke didn’t seem upset. 

“I know,” he said. “I... have some amazing friends.” 

“You’re not in the Imperial Fleet, are you?” said Camie. “They’re rolling in money—they give you that thing?”

Fixer wanted to take her in the back and yell until she remembered how to be polite to customers, but suddenly Luke was laughing. Not a chuckle, not a chortle—full-out laughter. 

“No,” he said, when he could manage to speak. “No, they really, really, _really_ wouldn’t want me in the Fleet.” He started laughing again. 

“Well, good,” said Fixer, giving Camie a glare while Luke was distracted. Though why he found the idea so amusing was beyond him. “To be honest, I’m not crazy about having them stationed on Tatooine. They’ve cramped our style.” 

Luke had calmed himself by now, and Fixer added something else to the list of changes in Luke Skywalker: He was almost... serene. It was bizarre. No twitching, no fidgeting, no uncertainty. Just... stillness and tranquility. 

“Ah. Sorry about that,” he said. 

“Sorry?!” said Fixer; now it was his turn to laugh a little. “Yeah, it’s your fault they’re stationed here, Skywalker. Thanks for the apology.” 

Luke grimaced a little, but he turned back to his money pouch and started counting again. “You have no idea,” he muttered, but it was very quiet—Fixer had probably misheard him. “Have they interfered a lot?” he asked. 

“Yeah, time to time,” said Fixer. “They mostly stick to Mos Eisley and the other cities, but they like to remind us they’re here sometimes.” 

“Darth Vader was here a few years ago,” said Camie suddenly. “In Mos Eisley. I saw him. He was just down the street.” 

“Come on, Camie,” said Fixer impatiently. “We’ve talked about this. You don’t know that was Vader, sweetheart. It was just some guy in black.” 

Her statement had an effect on Luke, though. He froze in his counting for a moment, and Fixer almost thought he saw a shadow cross his eyes. Before Fixer or Camie could say anything, though, Luke recovered. “If it’s any consolation,” he said, “I think the garison’ll be gone soon.” He finished counting and handed the thirty credits to Fixer. 

“What makes you think that?” said Fixer. “You been offworld? Got some info?” If Luke knew something, it would be worth far more than these thirty credits. 

“I’ve been offworld,” assented Luke. “The ‘Net’s really down, huh? I thought it might just be us.” 

“No, it’s the whole damn planet, from what we can tell,” said Fixer. “All the long-range relays—gone, bam, just like that. Got to be the Empire kriffing things up. You know anything?” 

Luke looked like he might say something, but then he looked away uncomfortably. “Things are happening,” he said softly. 

Fixer and Camie stared at him. 

And then, out of nowhere, the outer door flew open (and how that happened, when it was automated, was anyone’s guess). Fixer backed up toward the counter, where he kept his emergency blaster. The first person through the door was a Wookiee—what was a Wookiee doing on Tatooine??—followed closely by a man, a woman, and two droids. 

“Hide!” said the man frantically. He was taller than Luke (not that that was hard to accomplish), with a head of brown hair and a roguish look to him. 

“Han?” said Luke accusingly. “What did you do?” 

Seeing that Luke recognized the newcomers, Fixer relaxed just a little, leaving his blaster where it was but keeping his hand on it. Camie gave him a look, but figured he knew what he was doing. After all, if they were with Luke, they weren’t likely to start shooting the place up. 

The taller man’s face was a picture of innocence and consternation. “Who, me?” 

Luke merely stared at him, thin-lipped, eyebrow raised. 

“Listen, kid, I just took a little trip around Mos Eisley, I swear. I didn’t do anything!” 

“Took a little trip?! Did you forget you have an Imperial bounty on your head?” 

“I was trying to find an alternative source for the converter, kid. We have to get mobile again, and quick!” 

The Wookiee chimed in. 

“Not you, too,” grumbled Han at this interjection. 

“He’s right,” said Luke sharply. “If being third on the galaxy’s most wanted list won’t get you to keep a low profile, I give up.” 

“Maybe if he moved up on the list, he’d be more cautious,” said the woman with a heavy dose of sarcasm. She was young, even shorter than Luke, and beautiful—not that Camie was jealous at all. 

“Well, we’re both alive, so no such luck.” Luke turned away and ran his hand through his hair in frustration. “How far are they? Where’d you leave the speeder?” 

Fixer finally cracked. He ran a slightly disreputable trading station on the outskirts of Mos Eisley; he knew how to hold his tongue, or else he would never have lasted this long. But his limits had been stretched to the breaking point. Luke Skywalker, little Wormie, was in trouble with the Empire. What’s more, he apparently understood Shryiiwook. What’s even more—had he just implied that he and the girl were the first and second on the most-wanted list?? 

“What’s going on, Luke?” he burst out. “Why don’t you introduce your new friends?” 

Luke’s earlier demeanor—unnaturally calm, as far as his old comrades were concerned—seemed to have returned. “Sorry to be rude, Fixer, but we’re about to get real busy,” he said with a small smile. He turned to the young woman. “We’ve got to leave. We can’t let the garrison track us here—this place is defenseless. They’ll never survive,” he said, gesturing at the station around him. 

“Why are the Imperials tracking _you?”_ Camie tried to ask, but no one reacted to her question at all. 

The little astromech was beeping furiously, the Wookiee was growling incomprehensibly, and Luke was listening to them both as if he understood what was going on. 

“No,” he said firmly, his voice imbued with both serenity and steel. “I can handle that many, but we have to find cover somewhere else. I can’t risk _them.”_

“Of course you can’t,” said the woman, sounding unbelievably fond. “But if we’re going to leave, Luke, it has to be now. They can’t be far away.” 

“Given standard marching procedures, the available Imperial transports in Mos Eisley, and their trajectory as we left, I estimate they will arrive in four minutes,” said the protocol droid, sounding a lot more panicked (and therefore human) than any droid had the right to sound. 

Fixer forced his way into the middle of the knot of strangers. “Listen,” he said harshly. “I’m not letting you leave, not if you’re being hunted. I know you haven’t been around, Luke, but you’re still my neighbor. Let me help you.” 

Camie gasped and hiccuped from it. She couldn’t believe what Fixer had just said; altruism was a lovely quality, but not when a battalion of stormtroopers was on the way. 

Luke glanced at her and nodded slightly. He gripped Fixer’s arm. “I appreciate it,” he said, “but you don’t know the whole situation.” 

“The speeder’s out back, Luke,” said Han. 

Luke gave one last, long look and a nod to both Fixer and Camie. “I’m glad I saw you again,” he said. For a moment, Camie could see a flash of the younger, sickeningly sincere Luke Skywalker—not this strange, grown-up, somber version. But before she could reflect fully, he was on his way into the back room, and his new friends were following close behind him (like they were used to following him, but that couldn’t be right; not little Luke, not leading these impressive off-worlders). 

Then she realized that Fixer, inexplicably, was following them too. 

“I have to make sure he gets away,” he yelled over his shoulder. 

Then she realized that her feet were taking her after Fixer. 

“Don’t you dare get yourself in trouble!” she yelled back at him.

Luke still remembered the way to the back door, and he led the entire group straight out into the blazing sunlight. 

“A little caution, kid?” said Han. 

“They’re not here yet,” said Luke with utter confidence. 

For some reason, none of the offworlders thought to ask how he knew that. 

“Speeder’s this way, then.” Han gestured around the corner. 

The entire odd party ran in the direction he had indicated (or shuffled and rolled, in the case of the droids). Fixer and Camie followed close behind and watched as they piled into a dilapidated speeder and sped off to the north without a backward glance. 

Fixer looked down at Camie. “I’m going after them.” 

Before she could formulate a response, he was dashing off toward the side garage. 

“Fixer, _wait!”_ said Camie. She ran after him, either to berate him, beg him to stay, or slap him—she’d decide when she caught up. 

When she found him, he was climbing into his own speeder. 

“Don’t you dare mix yourself up in this Imperial business,” she said harshly. “If Wormie wants to get himself killed, that’s his business, but don’t you dare!” 

Fixer, as always, ignored her. “Wormie’s got himself in trouble somehow,” he said. “I’m going to help him get out. It’s... like the old days.” 

He started the ignition, and Camie growled in frustration. Before she could talk herself out of it, she jumped in the speeder with Fixer, and he grinned at her. 

“I knew you’d see things my way.” 

They sped out into the sunlight and headed north. 

* * * 

Luke and his new friends hadn’t gone very far. Only a few klicks north, there was a small outcropping of rock—more of a ridge than a cliff, but it was the most shelter you could find within an hour’s drive, and Luke (for all he’d been gone for five years) probably remembered as much. The speeder was too large to be kept fully out of sight, but it was parked at an angle to conceal as much of it as possible, and, Fixer noticed, with the fuel tank fully concealed behind the rock, protected from most blaster shot angles. 

Fixer parked his own speeder just behind it, at the same angle, and jumped out. Camie followed close behind. 

Luke looked around as they approached, and Han and the woman both followed his gaze. They looked surprised, but Luke didn’t. 

“I wish you hadn’t come,” he said. He almost sounded sad. 

Camie agreed silently, but Fixer gripped Luke’s shoulder. “We’re not letting you face the Imperials alone.” 

“No big deal,” said Han, who had turned away from them and was looking through a set of binocs. “Just one battalion, light artillery only, unarmed transport, not even any Walkers or ion cannons. Simple.” 

Fixer looked at him like he was insane, while Luke gave him a sideways grin and said, “They never use Walkers on sand, Han.” 

“You know,” said the young woman, “it might be better this way, anyway. We’re keeping the fighting out of the city.” 

Han brightened instantly. “See? I knew what I was doing—I was drawing them out!” 

The Wookiee groaned. 

By this time, the transport was almost within range. It ground to a stop suddenly; as Han had said, it was unarmed, so the stormtroopers disembarked to form up and point blasters threateningly in their direction. They formed three rows—the first row bent all the way to the ground, the second knelt behind them, and the third remained standing. All three rows aimed their weapons at the outcropping. Just behind the last row, on the left side, stood a commander in a gray uniform. 

The abrupt silence was jarring; Camie, huddled by Fixer’s shoulder, hunkered further down behind the rock. Any moment, she was sure they would open fire. 

“What are they doing?” said the young woman, sounding a little exasperated (which was not exactly what Camie considered an appropriate emotional reaction to the presence of stormtroopers with their weapons pointed in your direction). 

_“Luke Skywalker.”_ The amplified voice of the commanding officer boomed across the sands. _“You are surrounded. Surrender immediately and face your rightful sentence.”_

Han laughed—he actually laughed. “Never heard that definition of ‘surrounded,’” he said wryly. 

The Wookiee was saying something to Luke, meanwhile. It sounded like an admonishment. 

The young woman was digging her fingernails into Luke’s arm. “Luke...” she said warningly. 

“It’s the quickest way, Leia,” said Luke, smiling at her. 

Before either Fixer or Camie could figure out what in the nine hels was going on, Luke was standing and walking out from behind the outcropping. Directly in front of the stormtroopers. Unarmed. No armor or shields. No military backup. No escape. 

He had finally lost it. He’d gone insane—there was no other explanation. It was usually sun-sickness that did that, not time _away_ from Tatooine, but somehow Luke had lost his mind while he was gone. 

And instead of trying to pull him back, Leia was rolling her eyes, Han was _smiling,_ and the Wookiee was shaking a supportive fist in Luke’s direction. 

“I do hate it when he does this,” said the protocol droid. 

_What?_

Luke stood, seeming utterly at ease, in the stretch of sand between the outcropping and the line of stormtroopers. He held himself quite calmly, hands loosely at his sides, hair blowing gently in the scorching breeze. “Who commands this troop?” he called out. His voice betrayed no unease or nerves. He sounded, in fact, exactly as comfortable as he had earlier in the Station. 

_"This is Commander Ordon of the 957th Occupational Force,”_ came the response. _“Lay down your weapons and approach the company.”_

It was hard to see, since he was mostly facing away from them, but Fixer almost thought Luke had a small smile on his face. 

“I’m afraid I can’t do that, Commander Ordon,” he said. “But I have a counter-offer. In the name of the New Republic, I offer to accept your unconditional surrender.” 

Several of the stormtroopers shifted uncomfortably at that. 

_“Surrender?!”_ said Ordon. _“You are at my mercy, Skywalker. The only surrender today will be yours.”_

Luke nodded slowly. “I was afraid of that,” he said wistfully. “But I had hoped we could avoid this.” 

Things moved very suddenly after that. In a single, smooth motion, Luke had pulled a small black device off his belt, and there was a blaze of green light in front of him. Ordon shouted, _“Fire at will!”_ Three rows of stormtroopers fired red blaster bolts at once, and they came hurtling toward Luke—alone, defenseless, and soon to be dead... 

But somehow, impossibly, he wasn’t. He had dropped into a battle stance, and that green light was flashing here and there in an unbelievable blur, and—and the blaster bolts were not hitting him. They were ricocheting away from Luke. What’s more, they were ricocheting back toward the stormtroopers, and several ‘troopers were dropping to the ground, injured or dead. 

Camie couldn’t stop staring, but some small part of her realized that Han, Leia, and the Wookiee were firing around the outcropping, and a few seconds later, Fixer had dropped to a knee and was joining them. More and more stormtroopers fell under the onslaught, as Luke’s deflected bolts joined the rounds fired by Han, Leia, Fixer, and the Wookiee. Soon, Luke was advancing toward the few remaining stormtroopers; they were still firing, and he was still deflecting (and how was that even possible?!), but he moved slowly toward them. The officer had drawn his own weapon in desperation and began firing as well. But Luke moved steadily, inexorably toward them; soon there were only three troopers and the Commander remaining. In three quick motions, Luke swung his weapon and sliced the three troopers’ weapons in half, and before Ordon could react, he found himself with a blaze of green light held a centimeter away from his throat. 

Han, Leia, and the Wookiee stood and ran toward the survivors, weapons still held at the ready. The two droids were beginning to shuffle in that direction, too. Fixer lowered his blaster slowly and looked at Camie. 

“What in the name of Jabba’s left eye was that?” he said. His jaw was a bit slack, and she realized her mouth was hanging open in a mirror of his expression. She shook her head. She had no answer. 

Fixer stood and offered her a hand, and they followed the newcomers onto what had been a battlefield only moments ago. As they approached, they could hear Leia speaking. 

“...I’m sure you’ll agree it’s the only solution,” she was saying. There was an edge of fire and authority in her voice that belied her young appearance. 

“You want me to pull my garrison off of Tatooine?!” said the Commander. He was somewhere between panic and disbelief, and he didn’t dare move a muscle with Luke’s weapon held steadily by his throat. 

“Not at all, Commander,” replied Leia. “In fact, I would prefer you did not return to the Imperial fleet. I merely wish to accept your allegiance to the New Republic, the surrender of your garrison, and the transfer of yourself and your troops to my own command.” 

Ordon’s face was ashen. “But ma’am—” 

“General,” she said sharply. 

“Ma’am, I—” 

“You will address me as General Organa,” she clarified. “And to answer the objection you were about to raise: Do you truly think you will be safer in the hands of the remnants of the Empire than you would be under my command? The Emperor is dead—Luke here has seen to that. Darth Vader is dead.” 

“That was Luke, too,” interjected Han.

“Well, technically—” 

“Shut up,” said Han and Leia simultaneously. 

“The Imperial Army is being disbanded and reformed under the auspices of the New Republic,” continued Leia. “We have already re-formed the Senate, and as soon as you and your garrison have been... dealt with, one way or another, we will welcome the entrance of Tatooine into our membership. You can either join us and find yourself on the right side of history—” 

“For once,” interjected Han again. 

“—or you can put up a foolish fight and let us wipe your garrison to the ground.” 

Ordon was gaping; frankly, Fixer and Camie knew how he felt. 

“You want me to join your New Republic army,” he said at last. 

“Yes,” said Leia. “Well—as soon as they arrive.” 

“They’re not even here yet? You’re trying to take over Tatooine without an army?!” said Ordon. 

“Listen, not to put too fine a point on it, but we _are_ the army,” said Han, gesturing at Luke. 

“Han,” said Luke in a long-suffering tone, but his gaze and his weapon didn’t waver from their focus on Ordon. 

“I surrender,” said Ordon with a gasp. “My garrison is yours. My allegiance is yours.” 

Luke pulled his weapon back, and the next moment the light had disappeared, leaving only the black handle, which he hung back on his belt. He held out his hand, and Ordon found himself grasping it weakly. 

“Welcome to the New Republic,” said Luke. 

“I honestly thought he’d hold out longer,” said Han disappointedly. 

The three surviving stormtroopers were struggling to their feet, and the Wookiee (who had been training his crossbow on them during the previous conversation) helped them up. Leia was drawing Ordon to the side, speaking in matter-of-fact tones about the logistics of his surrender of the garrison. Han began to collect blasters from the fallen troops. And Luke turned to Fixer and Camie. He seemed almost reluctant to face them. 

“Sorry about that,” he said, sounding almost sheepish. 

“What in the nine hels happened to you while you were gone?!” said Fixer. “And what’s that—that—” 

“Lightsaber,” said Han from where he was scouring a fallen stormtrooper. 

Luke looked more restless than he had all day, shifting on his feet and running a hand through his hair. “It’s a long story,” he began. 

“He’s a Jedi,” Han summarized. 

Luke laughed lightly. “I guess that covers it.” He watched Fixer and Camie hesitantly. 

“Jedi are fairy tales,” said Camie instinctively. Fixer just gaped at Luke. 

“That’s what I used to think, too,” said Han, standing and rejoining them with a stack of blasters in his arms. “He’s the real deal, though. Took out the Emperor and Darth Vader. Oh, and Jabba—Jabba’s sludge, too.” 

“Han,” said Luke again. The exasperated tone was becoming familiar. 

“No, no arguments, kid,” said Han, uncharacteristically sincere and almost fond. “I know, I know—Leia killed Jabba while you took out his entire sail barge and rescued me while I was blind. And technically you didn’t personally kill the Emperor. Fine. There were three of you alone on the bridge of the Death Star, and you’re the only one who came out alive. I count it as your win.” 

A dark shadow flashed through Luke’s eyes, but Ordon and Leia were returning, and there was no chance to pursue this bizarre story further. Fixer shoved it aside; he would ponder its believability later. 

“Ordon will escort us back to the garrison,” announced Leia as they approached. “He’ll come in the speeder, and the other three will follow behind. Chewie—stay with them, would you?” 

The Wookiee acquiesced, and the rest of the group began to organize themselves to follow Leia’s orders. Han, Leia, and the droids started back toward the outcropping where the speeder was parked, and the formerly-Imperial commander followed at a gesture. Luke hesitated, though, looking at Fixer and Camie. 

“I’m sorry you got involved in this,” he said. 

“I’m not,” said Fixer. “And anyway, it’s not like we got hurt.” 

“You could have, though,” said Luke—and there was the shadow again. It was gone the next moment, though, and he was shaking their hands solemnly. Somehow, it didn’t make Camie want to laugh, as his attempts at gravity used to when he was younger. 

No matter what Han called him, Luke Skywalker wasn’t a kid any more. 

“Take care of yourselves,” said Luke, and then he was following Leia back to the speeders. 

Still somehow stunned, Fixer and Camie stood watching them until they were practically on the horizon. 

* * * 

Two days later, the communications embargo was lifted. There was no announcement or warning, but Camie went to turn on the HoloNet (she had tried every day since it went down), and it flicked on without hesitation. 

“Fixer!” she called out, and he came out of the fresher to see. She had turned it to the news; they hadn’t gone to Mos Eisley the day before, and no one had come to the Station from that direction, so they had no idea what was going on with the garrison. 

They didn’t have to search hard—or at all—to find the news. There were bulletins all over the Net, and not just about the garrison’s fall and Tatooine’s invitation to join the New Republic. With increasingly shocked expressions (and wasn’t that beginning to feel familiar on their faces), they saw bulletin after bulletin about the fall of the Empire. 

_...Emperor Dies Above Endor..._

__

...Scourge of the Galaxy, Darth Vader, Defeated by Jedi... 

__

...Luke Skywalker, Hero of the New Republic... 

__

...Luke Skywalker Addresses Senate on Coruscant... 

__

_...Parade for Skywalker..._

But it wasn’t just Luke. Over and over, they heard and read about Leia Organa: Princess, Senator, and General; Han Solo, hero of the Rebel Alliance; Chewbacca, faithful and powerful Wookiee; even the droids had their own headlines (R2-D2: All-Powerful Astromech, proclaimed one gossip rag). 

“Unbelievable,” said Camie. 

Fixer shook his head. After what they had seen, he didn’t agree. It seemed very believable to him. Five years ago, sure, he would have told you were crazy. But this new Luke? The one who sat so comfortably in his own skin, who could stare you down and never blink, who wore a black glove over an articial hand, whose eyes were clouded with shadow, who walked in front of a battalion of troops with nothing but a lightsaber and three friends covering his back? 

Yes, he could believe it. 

_Little Luke Skywalker, from Tatooine, took down the Empire._

**Author's Note:**

> Basically, I’m just fascinated with the idea of Luke going back to Tatooine and seeing his old friends, who knew him as a whiny little fool, and seeing how they would react to his new Jedi-self. I mean, they were kind of assholes to him in the novelization (although, to be fair, he was also a pretty immature little doofus in the beginning), so I’d really like to see them come to their senses about the fact that Luke is... just... Luke is Everything.  
> It’s also kind of the end of the Hero’s Journey, as well, which George Lucas didn’t do for some reason (even though he followed Campbell pretty darn precisely in a lot of ways). Odysseus returns to Ithaca, Frodo goes back to the Shire, but Luke just had a party on Endor.  
> And you probably got this, but the title is from the phrase “You can’t go home again.”  
> This is my first attempt at writing fanfiction, and completely un-betaed, so I hope it worked out okay. I can promise it’s basically grammatically correct (unlike this note, which, let’s be real, is full of run-on sentences), but I don’t promise any artistry beyond that; I mean, for one thing, the plot is basically pointless and stupid, because Luke et al would not handle the situation(s) this way, not at all. Nor would an Imperial garrison just randomly surrender and then the whole planet is the Rebels’. And I doubt Leia is a general at this stage, but I just loved having her telling off a stuck-up Imperial fool. And the POV is kind of weird, bouncing from Fixer to Camie for no reason. So I’m very aware of its flaws, but I was just messing around and having fun. If one person out there enjoys it, then hopefully it’s worth it. If you have any comments, I’d be glad to hear them [I say nervously...].


End file.
